The Orphan Queen (The Orphan Queen #1)(85)

I turned my hand over to find the Black Knife mask.

My heart tumbled and twisted. “You?” Tobiah was Black Knife? How? When did he find time? Had his father known? What about James? Or Meredith? And why had he not revealed me as an impostor the first day Melanie and I walked into his father’s office?

“But you’re so sour and he’s so—” I clamped my mouth shut. “Sorry.” Maybe.

Oh no. No. I was in love with the boy who was the reason for the One-Night War. The reason my parents were dead.

His mouth turned up in a pale smile. “I’m not a good alibi. You’re right.”

“Especially when people think Black Knife did it.” Fighting to keep a steady hand, I let my fingertips touch his cheek, his chin. The sensation of his skin under mine, the planes and ridges of his face, and even the way he gasped and closed his eyes at my touch: I’d felt all of this before.

This couldn’t be real.

“That’s why I didn’t come last night. I’m sorry you got caught. I couldn’t think of a good way to warn you to stay in without you finding out.”

“But you told me just now.”

“Did I?” With that same tired smile, he took my hand and kissed my fingertips, but drew back when my sleeve slipped up to reveal my forearm. “Oh, Will. What happened? The guards?”

“It’s nothing.” Just the memory made my stomach turn over, but I hardened myself against it. I refused to show him—or anyone—how those men had hurt me.

“I know the way you lie. I’ve lived with it.” He checked my other arm, and his expression fell into something hard and dangerous. Shards of Black Knife manifested: his tone, the way his body tensed, the angle of his head. My heart pounded as he trailed his fingertips across my flushed skin. “Is it like this everywhere?”

I pressed my mouth into a line as I yanked away my arm. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Will, you—” He shook his head and slumped. “I was going to suggest you don’t have to lie to me—to pretend to be someone you’re not. But I suppose I can see why you might not believe that.”

“How can I believe anything you do or don’t say? How can I believe your actions?” I curled my hands into fists and stared at them. There was no reason he should trust me, either; I was a thief, and an impostor. And worse. I shifted my tone, filling it with more regret. “You said it wouldn’t work for us. That you have other obligations.”

He exhaled. “That night in the breezeway—that was the truth of my feelings.”

“The truth of your actions doesn’t forgive the betrayal in them. What about your fiancée? What if you’d already been married? Would you have done the same?”

“Of course not.” He pulled back, indignant.

“There’s only one side of you I want.” I lifted my eyes to his. “And I’m willing to gamble there’s only one side she wants, too. You have to choose who you are.”

“I know.” Tobiah stood and stepped back, one graceful movement. “I have to go now, but you’ll be out of here soon.”

How had he fooled me for so long? How had he been so completely different? “You’re going to let me go?”

“I know you didn’t kill my father.” Grief pierced his words. “You aren’t a murderer.”

“I tried. Once. You stopped me. It wouldn’t be a stretch to believe I might try again.”

“But you didn’t commit this murder. We were together.” For a half second, his eyes dropped to my lips. “You know where to find me. I’ll have your things.” Our eyes met again briefly, and then the cell bars squealed and he was gone.





THIRTY-ONE


ALONE AGAIN, I sat back and struggled to breathe. Black Knife was Tobiah. Tobiah was Black Knife.

The boy I loved was my enemy. The boy I couldn’t stand to be near.

It also meant Tobiah had known who I was from the very beginning—from the moment I stepped into the king’s office and our eyes locked. I’d been so worried he would know me from Aecor. It had never occurred to me I should worry that he’d know me from all of his crime fighting.

He didn’t know I was Wilhelmina, though. That secret, at least, was still mine.

I sank lower onto the bench, and sank deeper into my confused emotions.

But how—how—could they be the same? One boy smiled all the time, even if I never saw it, and the other was so thoroughly unimpressed with everything and everyone. One boy sought me out and fought for my attention, maybe even my affection, and the other ignored my existence except when manners forced him to acknowledge me.

And he was getting married. Tobiah was engaged.

They couldn’t be the same. They needed to be different boys so I hadn’t fallen in love with a boy I couldn’t have.

He’d tried to stop me, though. And he’d stopped himself, when I was ready to lose myself.

While I’d been quietly falling in love, it had never occurred to me he might already have someone. Even if he didn’t love her, they’d be married as soon as he set a date. How very human of him to fall for someone with such a perceived low rank.

Shame, betrayal, and longing seeped through me, filling every pore. Black Knife became a whirlpool that sucked at my thoughts.